


recursion

by crytalstellar



Series: close the loop [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, reset fic, spoilers for every route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crytalstellar/pseuds/crytalstellar
Summary: When Luciel looks at her profile, something familiar stirs in his heart. It as if he knows her, but he doesn't.... right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is crossposted on my tumblr account about a month ago? It was part of a follower special, but I figured I would post it here too. LOL. Luckily the reset art has died down for the most part, but that's what inspired this. Um. Not sure what else to say. It's got references to a couple of my other 707 fics, though you don't need to necessarily read them. 
> 
> Additionally, I actually wrote this fic a little differently- the scenes were written in a way that came to me, then rearranged. For example, Jaehee was written before Zen, but Zen comes first in the fic. Hopefully it's still pretty cohesive.

Luciel stares at the picture of the mystery girl who somehow got her hands on the RFA’s secret messaging app.

He can admit that’s she’s cute, hell, he can even admit that she’s his type.

_He didn’t even know he had a type._

But as the days go on, he realizes she’s more than ‘his type.’

She’s perfect.

Her responses to his jokes are on point and her timing impeccable. She doesn’t try to reel him in like Jaehee, and she joins in on the torment of Yoosung without hesitation.

There’s no denying she’s perfect.

And so, his mind, the ever working machine that it is, likes to fantasize during the rare moments where he actually doesn’t have any work.

In these fantasies, she’s agreed to marry him.

In this fantasies, they do all sorts of things together.

They go on dates- like a date to a science museum or a drive in his car.

They play in the rain.

They sneak into Jumin’s apartment to see Elly.

He even meets her parents in one of his little daydreams.

And with each and every passing day, the desire to makes these fantasies a reality grows. But the harsh truth always settles in.

He can’t be with her because who he is. She shines so brightly and he can’t bear to drag her into this dark dark world of his.

Luciel hates to admit it. Because there’s something deep, deep down in his heart, in his mind, that tells him that he’s the one for her. That they’re destined to be, that she’s the one at the end of the red thread.

He should know better, he really should.

But the belief that she is the one ingrains itself into his very soul.

And Luciel can’t forget it even if he wanted to.

* * *

Luciel’s no leading man. He’s part of the supporting cast, always has been and always will be. So he knows he’s got no place pining for the hero’s love interest. There’s no romantic rival for the tragic and handsome, yet narcissistic hero written in the script. The heroine already has a rival, if Echo Girl can even be considered that, and expanding this love triangle into a love square will make it far too hard to the writers to resolve everything neatly.

But he can’t stop the  _thump-thump-thump_  of his heart in when they talk in the chatroom.

He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face when she turns to the surveillance camera to wave at him.

He can’t stop the warm and fuzzy feelings that resonate in his chest every time she picks up when he calls her.

But he, just like everyone else, has a part to play. And that part is that of the tragic, but quirky hacker who supports everyone from the shadows. He enlists the help of one of his fellow supporting characters to assist in eliminating the love triangle’s hypotenuse.

Luciel tells everyone that it’s to help Zen, that Echo Girl’s actions are unjust and as a defender of justice he can’t idly stand by as someone slanders an innocent man’s name and career.

It’s not really a lie; it’s a half truth.

Luciel does it because he knows the heroine will be happy if her hero’s name and honor are restored. He wants to see her happy, and so he will do what he must to achieve that goal. That way, the heroine and hero can have their happily ever after just as the script dictates.

And Luciel, as the hero’s friend and supporter, will be happy, just as the script dictates.

Even if there are little voices whispering in the back of his mind.

_This story has more than one script._

* * *

She’s sweet.

The new RFA member that just stumbled on to their doorstep.

She’s earnest not only in her efforts to make the party as successful as possible, but to help the other RFA members. Luciel knows that she’s no Rika, but her presence seems to have done so much for all of them.

Especially for Jaehee.

Luciel jokes that she’s a robot, doing her work quickly, perfectly, efficiently. She works so hard only for Jumin to slap more work onto her as if she really is some machine. It’s something he identifies with, when in work mode, that is. But unlike him, Jaehee lacks an off switch. 

At least, Jaehee did until she came around.

He can see it, the girl inspires Jumin’s corporate slave to be something more. To follow her dreams, to do what makes her happy. And Jaehee, he knows, deserves happiness, after everything she’s been through.

And if Jaehee is happy, he knows she will be too.

That’s the real reason why he makes the cat hotel presentation. To help Jaehee. If he helps Jaehee, she will be happy. And he wants so much for to her be happy. Luciel doesn’t quite understand what gives her words such power over him. They strike through to the heart he’s done so well to hide and lifts his spirits higher than he’s ever known.

But he knows full well that if Jaehee makes the decision to use his presentation Jumin will let her go. If she uses it, she will be free.

Just like Luciel wants to be.

Jaehee will be with _her_.

Just like Luciel wants to be.

* * *

Luciel stares at her picture.

There’s something undeniably familiar about her, that much is certain.

He’s never seen her before in his life, that too is certain.

And yet he feels something gnawing at the corners of his mind, telling him that he knows her,  _he knows her_. The words to make her smile, to make her laugh, come naturally to him as if they’re ingrained his mind.

But doesn’t know her.

_Right?_

* * *

Luciel never really admired Yoosung for anything.

If anything, he felt sorry for Yoosung. He didn’t know the boy well at the time of Rika’s death, but anyone could see the effect the woman’s death had on him. He’d gone from a driven honor student, to a lazy slacker who often ditched class to play LOLOL.

But she changed him.

For the better.

The way Yoosung demands to go to Mint Eye’s headquarters shows a determination that the Yoosung he’s known these few years never had. He can’t tell him no.

But when Yoosung asks, begs,  _demands_ , Luciel is overcome with a brief bout of deja vu.

He’s hit with a memory that he doesn’t remember actually happening.

In this ‘memory’ it’s all different.

It’s not Yoosung. It’s Zen.

It’s not going to Mint Eye. It’s going to Rika’s apartment where  _she_  is.

There’s only one thing about these two situations, one real and one that might be real, that is the same: the raw and intense desire to protect _her._  Because they love her.

Because they can do something Luciel can’t.

They can protect her.

After all, at the end of the day, he’s the one who put her in danger. He’s the one who let her live with the bomb.

Even if he loves her to the skies, Luciel knows that he’s beyond forgiveness.

And so he ignores that little voice in his head that screaming.

_Don’t give up!_

* * *

When was the last time?

Luciel grasps desperately at his jacket, his arms wrapping so tightly around himself as trying to keep the fragmenting pieces of his heart together.

(It’s not working.)

A whimper struggles past his lips, breaking the dam he’d build up, and then another slips through, and soon enough his agonized cries echo throughout the room. He screams and screams til his throat is dry and refuses to make another sound.

The silent sobs still wrack his body as he curls into himself.

When was the last time?

_There was no last time._

It just feels so familiar though, like he’s done it all before. Luciel feels as if he’s caught strangest case of deja vu. It’s the first time, it’s all happening for the first time and but there’s something yelling in his heart and his mind. He can’t understand the words. They’re mumbled and jumbled in some sort of code that he’s on the very verge of deciphering but he lacks the RAM to execute the command.

Is it possible that there was…

A last time?

* * *

Luciel picks up on it the moment she shows interest in Jumin. For some reason that he doesn’t know, or isn’t ready to admit, he’s really attuned to her. Jumin, being who he is, can give her everything she could ever want or need, which makes him a perfect choice for her in his eyes. And she has no apparent want for anything beyond what she really needs, which makes her a perfect match for Jumin.

Luciel’s done the calculations in his head and a relationship between her and Jumin has 97% chance of working out.

(He, of course, ignores the 99% for a successful relationship between him and her. And tells himself, in this case, that statistics are an impure form of math, so as a result they can’t be trusted.)

He pushes for them to get together. He cheers her on in her pursuit as he ignores the  _snip snip snip_  of his heartstrings.

When she succeeds, he congratulates her, but is glad, oh so glad for the shield of the messenger app. It makes it so much easier for him to…

Lie? No, that’s not quite right. He really is happy that she seems so happy with Jumin, he knows that much for sure.

But there’s something beyond that. There’s a reason that whenever he sees the two being lovey-dovey in the chat, he begins to feel sick as knives poke and prod at his heart. There’s a reason why Honey Buddha chips and Dr. Pepper don’t taste as good as they used to. There’s a reason why he has an even harder time of sleeping than he used to.

It’s not until that night he calls her that he realizes. His hopes and fantasies crumble when he realizes that she loves Jumin. She really, _really_  loves Jumin and there’s no room for him in her heart.

He’d made a special spot, just for her, in his heart, but she didn’t do the same for him.

_And it destroys him._

But he can’t let it show. Not too much. He has to play it off, and pretend to be as he always has been.

It hurts him. It hurts so much that there are moments when, if he’s not preoccupied with something,the tears just start falling. It becomes an effort to be Seven Zero Seven. Sometimes he’s not sure if he remembers how.

Especially when there’s a voice in his head whispering.

_It didn’t have to be this way._

He was so close, so very, very close.

If he had tried harder, she could have been his.

(The bigger question is if he’s willing to let himself become  _hers_.)

* * *

There’s a strange new addition to the RFA messenger.

What’s stranger is that no such additions should even be possible, of this, Luciel is sure.

He’s the one who made the app, after all.

And as such, he’s obligated to get to the bottom of this intrusion. Pulling up her information is easy enough, after all, he’s the great hacker Seven Zero Seven. But the moment her information shows on screen, he stops breathing.

Reflexively, he reaches out to touch her picture on the screen. A strange feeling surges through his chest. He can’t quite put his finger on it. There’s something about this girl that’s familiar and warm, but also something distant and sad. The feelings she gives him are a mess of contradictions, and as much as he hates it he…

The answer he’s been searching for his him like a truck.

But it couldn’t be…

It makes no sense. He’s barely exchanged a couple sentences with her.

And it’s him, he’s talking about. How could someone like  _him_  fall in love?

With a stranger no less.

The more he stares at her picture, the more familiar she seems and the more undeniable it is.

But he doesn’t want to admit it.

Not yet.

* * *

There’s a bizarre sense of relief that washes over him when her focus in the chatroom is all on him.

He can’t help but feel good, like this is right. This is the way things should be, and yet, this isn’t right. He told himself before that he can’t drag her into his dark dark world.

(At least he thinks he did? He can’t remember when he had this thought.)

He tries to keep her at arm’s distance. It’s for her own good, he tells himself.

The little voice in his head, a haunting stranger and an encouraging friend, tell him to sit back and just let the chips fall where they may.

If he leaves it up to destiny this time, he might not regret it.

The logical part of his brain tells him to not risk it. He can’t take having his heartbroken a fifth time.

(When were times one through four?)

But that little voice tells him to take a chance, after all, her eyes are on him this time.

(‘What do you mean by ‘this time’?’ he often asks.)

The voice never answers,  but he decides to listen and take that chance.


End file.
